Christopher Free And The Problem He Be
by Calumniator
Summary: Remus answers a call for a detective, and ends up looking for someone's lost husband. He is not happy with the results.


This Was Written For Round 6 Of The Fanfiction Quidditch Competition. I Did Noir, And My Prompts Were Perfume, "I have no money left", and Trap. UuU

* * *

He could smell her perfume the moment he stepped in the door. It invaded his senses, clogging his throat and blurring his vision. He wondered for a moment if he had wandered into a fortune teller's shop. He hoped not.

"You came."

A sardonic chuckle escaped Remus's throat, sounding more bitter than he'd ever wanted. He would have to take a good look at his life if he was regularly making sounds like that. It couldn't be healthy.

"I didn't have much choice."

The woman emerged from behind a curtain, and Remus wondered if he _was_ in a fortune teller's shop. It was too dark to tell, shadows splayed across the floor and walls.

"Are times really that rough, Remus?"

Her voice was deep and sultry, her eyes piercing. Despite himself, his heart started racing.

"I never told you my name."

"You never answered my question."

"I have no money left," said Remus. "Not a penny. So I'd appreciate getting down to business."

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "My husband has been misplaced, Remus. I want him back."

Remus was taken aback. He did not show it. "I'm not exactly sure I know what you mean by that."

She approached him. She was wearing a baggy sweater coupled with a pair of white-washed jeans. She was smoking a cigarette. The way her eyes focused on his made his chest ache.

"I have lost my husband," she said. "And I want him back."

"Where was he last seen?"

She handed Remus a file, giving him a chance to admire her maroon fingernails.

"It's all in here," she said. "Good luck."

"And if I bring him back?" he asked.

"There will be a reward," she said, receding back into the darkness. "I will make it worth your time, Remus Lupin."

* * *

He should know better by now. He should know better than to follow the clues of a mysterious femme fatale. He _did _know better, but he no money and nothing to lose.

Still, he was stupid. He had read the file and noted that her "lost" husband had been an extreme gambler, so he'd surmised that it was possible that he'd owed money to the mob. An easy assumption though, and that rankled him. A smart woman like her would have been able to figure that out.

But he hadn't been able to figure out any other leads, so here he was, sitting in a borrowed car outside a casino, waiting for any clues as to the missing person.

He was debating heavily on whether to go in, worried his shabby clothes might give him away, when the target actually walked out of the casino door.

There was no way it could be this easy. There was absolutely no way. It had to be a trap.

The man in question climbed into a waiting car and sped off, so Remus did the only thing he really could. He started the car and followed him.

Either_ he_ was stupid or Christopher Free, the man he was so joyfully following, was. Remus didn't like the first option and was uncomfortable with the second.

Christopher Free arrived, not at another gambling den or poorly disguised brothel, but at a hotel. It wasn't even a seedy one.

Remus parked the car and, again, debated on whether or not to go in. He tried weighing the risks, but it was a little difficult to consider real danger when this man had been both so easily found and followed.

* * *

To hell with it. He was going in.

When he asked the receptionist if he could have the room number of a Mr. Free, he was actually relived when she hesitated. Let her say no. Let her provide an obstacle in this confusingly simple chase.

She said yes.

Remus was starting to become convinced he was the stupid one here.

He loitered at the ice machine a few doors down from Free's room, trying to figure out what to do now. Loiter here for the rest of the night? Sneak in the room? Burst in the room and drag him back to his wife?

Remus decided to knock on the door.

He was definitely the stupid one here.

Then again, Christopher Free _answered_ the door, so he was willing to reconsider.

"You wife is looking for you," said Remus dumbly, unsure of where to go from there.

Christopher Free beamed at him. "He found us, honey! Can you believe it?

He opened the hotel door wider to reveal the shadowy woman from earlier, not looking so sinister now as she grinned at Remus, her baggy sweater looking more silly than sensual.

"I knew he was good, I could feel it!" she gushed.

"Do someone want to tell me what's going on here?" asked Remus faintly.

Free ushered Remus into the room, saying, "We wanted to make sure you were the real deal, so we sent you on a little goose chase before giving you the real job."

Remus was too highly-strung at this point to let it go so easily. "All of this was fake? What are you talking about?"

"My darling wife Nancy here sent you to find me, trying to see if you could do it! And you did! You're perfect for the job."

"It wasn't exactly difficult," admitted Remus, dazed.

"Nonsense!" said Nancy. "Now sit down and let us tell you the real problem we've got. It involves a jewel heist..."

Remus sat, but he also said, "I'm not sure if I should do this."

"Did I mention we're millionaires?" said Christopher nonchalantly.

Remus was suddenly enthralled in Nancy's descriptions of the "real job" they had for him.

The things he did for money.

* * *

UuU


End file.
